


Of Stolen Panties and Little Brothers

by ms_anthrophy



Series: Of Stolen Panties and Little Brothers [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Incest, Knifeplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Possessive Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester in Panties, Top Dean, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 19:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_anthrophy/pseuds/ms_anthrophy
Summary: Sam, Dean, a cheap motel room, a pair of lacy, red panties and lots of hormones. Sam is fifteen here.





	Of Stolen Panties and Little Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Pure PWP, because there is never enough Dean banging underage Sam who's wearing panties. Beta'd by absolutely awesome luciusmistress.

It's probably the filthiest motel they've encountered this year (although it's only April); there's a permanent echo of stale cigarette smoke and cheap perfume in the air and most customers seem to be there in prostitution-related business. But it's cheap and there's vacancies, so it's an okay place to leave your two sons in, if you happen to be John Winchester. Not that Sam and Dean mind, they've been desperately craving for some time to spend alone, just the two of them.

The bedspread is red like fresh blood, red like the lacy panties Sam is wearing. He's lying on the bed, coltish legs spread, clad only in the panties Dean stole two towns away, slow movements belying the tension underneath, feeling Dean's gaze on him like a physical thing. Sam just went through a growth spurt, and he still feels like a stranger in this too-tall body, insecure about every little thing, his voice still cracking every now and then, still wondering why he makes Dean's mouth water like no one else. 

Except Sam's not thinking of that now, not thinking much of anything when his world is narrowed down to Dean and the throbbing ache between his legs, to his hard cock pressing against the lace, to the acute lack of Dean's cock inside his tight ass, hole quivering in anticipation. 

Dean is leaning against the shabby table, first pale freckles blooming on his nose, absently toying with a freshly sharpened knife, taking in the sight of his little brother spread out for him like a whore, like a virgin sacrifice.

"Touch yourself." 

Sam blushes. Eyes closed, he slips his trembling hand into the panties and wraps it around his painfully hard cock, when he feels cold metal caressing his cheek. Dean is running his favorite Bowie knife down Sam's neck, his movements precise and careful. He is so hard he could hammer nails with his dick, but he draws this out with uncharacteristic patience.

"Only through the panties, Sammy."

A low whine escapes from Sam's mouth and Dean chuckles. Sam palms his dick through the lace and it's so not enough. 

"Good boy. Give me a good show and I'll let you come..." Dean traces circles around Sam's nipples with the blade, not breaking skin, and steps back to admire the sight of his little brother clad in lace, little, half-strangled moans flowing from his lips. "...After I've fucked you."

Sam traces his cock's outlines with trembling fingers and fuck, he's already leaking precome through the thin fabric. Dean's gaze is locked at the red lace hugging Sam's hard cock. He knows the panties are bringing Sam's perfect, round ass out in some spectacular way and he needs to see it, now.

Dean manhandles Sam, turns him around so he's lying on his stomach, ass up in the air. He growls like an animal and latches his teeth onto Sam's neck. Sam whimpers and reaches almost unconsciously to wrap his hand around his aching cock. Dean bites deeper and grabs Sam's wrist, hard. Sam knows how this game works, he isn't to touch himself until Dean tells him to, loves the feeling of being _owned_ so completely, loves being punished, too, sometimes.

"No touching that pretty cock, Sammy. Do that one more time and you don't get to come at all." Dean's words are a low whisper, his voice rough and thick with lust , his breath hot in Sam's ear, making him shiver.

"So pretty, tight little ass all covered in slutty red lace. It's all just for me, right, Sammy?"  
"Yes, yours, only yours." Sam can't imagine giving himself over like this to anyone else. Dean is his everything -the only good thing in his fucked up life."Not letting anyone else fuck my ass, ever. Get on with it already, you fucking tease!" 

Dean chuckles and slaps Sam's ass hard, leaving a red hand print. "Bossy bitch", he mumbles and cuts through the panties. Sam stays still but he can't hold back a shiver at the feeling of cold steel against his ass. Dean spreads Sam's ass cheeks, the red lace tearing and baring Sam's hole. He drops the knife on the floor, the tip of his tongue tracing around the hole, feather-light. Sam blushes at Dean's mumbled "Pretty pink, only for me", feeling so very exposed, a rush of precome dripping down his dick.

"Was gonna go nice and slow, but since you decided to be a _bad_ little slut, you're gonna feel it all for a few days." 

Dean lubes up his fingers and sticks two up Sam's ass, begins to move them in a slow and steady rhythm. Sam whimpers and fucks against Dean's fingers.

"Eager little bitch, aren't you? Just can't wait to get big brother's dick up that slutty ass?"  
"Yes, ah... just... hurry the fuck up!" 

Dean stills his movement and a low, disappointed whine escapes from Sam's lips. Dean chuckles.  
"What's the magic word, Sammy?"

Sam's whole world is narrowed down to Dean's fingers up his ass, teasing, not nearly enough, down to Dean, bigger than life, beside him. 

"Fuck... please, Dean, fuck me?"  
"Can't resist when you beg so nice."

Dean takes his fingers out of Sam's ass and spreads the leftover slick on his cock, knowing it's not enough. He thinks how sore his little brother's ass is gonna be tomorrow, how Sam will squirm on his seat in the Impala for the whole day. Dean's cock twitches at the image and he grunts and wraps his hand tight around the base of his cock. Then he thrusts his cock to the hilt into Sam's ass, the friction and Sam's half-pained, half-horny moans making him dizzy. 

Dean is big and the first, rough thrust makes Sam tense instinctively, a bright, brief flash of pain cutting through the haze of lust, only making Sam's need sharper, more acute. Then Dean hits Sam's sweet spot, and the pain dissolves into pleasure, and Sam moves against Dean, fucks himself on Dean's dick, desperate moans escaping from his lips. 

Dean grabs Sam's wrists, smothering him with his weight, and fucks him into the mattress, each thrust hammering his prostate. "Gonna give you what you need, Sammy. Gonna fuck you so hard you'll be sore for days, every time you sit down. Tomorrow every bump on the road will make you think of my dick up your tight, little ass."

Sam is deliciously helpless under Dean, split open on his thick cock, drowning in this sensory overload, conflicting feelings of _too much_ and _not enough_ tearing him apart so good. He squirms, trying to get some friction on his painfully hard dick, when he feels Dean's hand on his throat, cutting his air supply. "Told you I'm not letting you come yet, little cockslut. Stay still."

There's a weak flutter of a fight-or-flight reaction, but it's Dean's hand choking him, bringing a flood of memories, how Dean pulls the trigger with a killer's clarity in his eyes, how Dean cleans their guns, hands tenderly caressing cold metal, how Dean stitches Sam's wounds, how it is all okay because it's Dean, and Sam falls into this breathlessness with implicit trust.

Sam's eyesight blackens, he doesn't know where he ends and Dean begins anymore (if he ever did). Dean slackens his grip for a moment to let Sam draw a hasty lungful of air and fucks him even harder, the cheap motel bed creaking and banging against the wall with Dean's thrusts. "Gonna fill you up, little brother. Make that sweet ass of yours all sore and dripping my come." Dean sinks his teeth into Sam's shoulder and comes, moaning unintelligible words against Sam's skin, cock pulsing deep inside his ass.

Dean reluctantly pulls out and drags Sam to a sitting position. "Wanna see you jack off that pretty cock, come all over the slutty red lace." 

Sam gasps for air, feeling deliciously used. He's beyond all shame, eyes half-open, lips swollen from where he has been biting them, and he would love to take his time, to make Dean wait, but he _can't_ , barely manages to pull his cock a few times and he comes all over his hand. The room is still spinning in his eyes when he feels Dean's hand on his lips, smearing them with come. 

Afterward they lie entangled on the bed, languid and sweaty. Dean slides his fingers around Sam's used hole, dips one inside teasingly.

"Keep those panties on for me tomorrow. The way your hot, little ass looks like this, wanna make you come in them when I'll fuck you against the wall in some filthy gas station restroom."


End file.
